Don’t Get Hurt (But Get Sore)

Nearly 30 miles, plenty of vertical, hail the size of golf balls, lightning strikes, and one stubborn hiking partner who refused to answer my repeated question: “How long is this hike?”

That was my weekend.

I needed to know the mileage to manage my running training load for the week—my #1 goal was avoiding injury. Pete, my co-hiker, took “don’t get hurt” to mean “don’t worry, just get sore.” And sore I got.

We took the Appalachian Trail by storm starting at the Massachusetts–Connecticut border. For me, it was almost 20 years since I first set foot on that spot, a snowy weekend with my college roommate Browny.

Hiking is always more than exercise. It clears the mind. It forces reflection on the path you’re on and the paths you’ll face. This hike was no different—though the hail felt medieval (it was covered in spikes), the lightning too close for comfort, and for a brief moment I asked myself: “Why the hell do I do this? I could be home watching college football.” (Funny thing—I don’t even watch college football anymore. But when I’m doing something hard, my mind drifts to couch, cheese, and football.)

Then the skies cleared. We summited the highest point in Connecticut. And my mind wandered, as it always does, to the bigger trail: When am I hiking the entire AT?

Well, I’ll say it now. Spring of 2029. Right after my youngest heads off to college. With at least one break to watch my oldest graduate. There—it’s written. Hold me to it.

Takeaways from the Trail

• Hiking averages out to awesome. But like all averages, it hides the highs and lows.

• The sum result? Character building, mind expanding.

• Hardship sharpens gratitude—reminding me that my “day job” building Members’ Wealth is its own mountain range. It has thunderstorms, peaks, valleys—but at least I don’t have to carry a 30-pound pack and sleep on the ground.

Hiking keeps the softer side of life in perspective.

Walk on.